Had Adam already left?
No sooner had she thought of him than he appeared. He leaned inside the cage and hovered over her. “Do you need a ride?”
She’d ridden to the party with Shazzer, who’d ended up leaving with her dancing partner. Not wanting to be a third wheel, Eve had decided to call a cab instead. “I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We live on the same street.” He took her hand and hauled her out of the cage. “I promise not to bite.”
A glimpse of fang appeared. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Funny.”
“I thought so.” His fangs retracted as he gave her a slow, sexy smile.
She picked up her bag. A T-shirt and a pair of jeans were stuffed inside. Although she hated to go out in her painted costume, the thought of ruining her favorite pair of jeans was worse. “I’m afraid I didn’t think this costume all the way through.”
Adam’s gaze moved down her body, lingering on her green-tinted breasts and hips. “I can’t say I mind.”
“Of course you wouldn’t.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to ruin your car seat though.”
“You won’t. I have a towel in the trunk.” Looping his arm through hers, he escorted her outside and to his sleek black sports car.
The ride home was mostly silent. When he pulled up in front of his large house, she didn’t question him. She knew what he wanted. The only question was whether she was prepared to give it to him. Not wanting to barge in on Shazzer and her male guest, it wouldn’t hurt for her to visit with Adam for a little bit.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” she pointed out as he opened her door.
Early morning sunlight gilded his dark hair. She’d learned from her grandmother that the whole no sunlight thing was a myth. Thank goodness. The last thing she wanted was to see him burned to a crisp in his driveway.
He seemed amused. “Sleeping is the last thing on my list right now.”
She strolled into his house, pausing briefly to admire the elegant furnishings. What in the world was she doing in Adam’s house, practically butt naked, at six o’clock in the morning? Pushing aside her reservations, she moved toward the living room. Then she remembered the paint. No way was she sitting on his plush white leather sofa.
“Would you like a shower?”
The sound of his voice directly behind her made her jump. “You just want to get me naked.”
He winked. “Of course.”
She looked down at the paint covering her breasts. Sweat and hours of dancing had smeared it. She looked a mess. “I suppose a shower would be nice.”
“Follow me.”
The bathroom was gorgeous. She ignored the king-sized bed in the room they passed through. It had to be the master.
“Here you go. I’ll go get your bag.” He handed her a fluffy white towel and then left her alone in the massive marble-lined bathroom.
The water ran green for several minutes as she scrubbed at the paint. Sudsing up her hair and body, she washed the remainder of the glitter away. The expensive shampoo and soap softened her skin, even though it made her smell like a dude. The enticing scents of citrus and sandalwood reminded her of Adam.
After she’d showered and dried off, she cracked open the door. “Adam?”
He entered the room, carrying a small pile of clothing. He dropped her shirt and jeans on the bed and stared until she felt self-conscious. He must’ve taken a bath in another bathroom. Gone were his costume and the faint traces of glitter that had transferred from her body to his during their dancing. Nylon shorts were all he wore, leaving his delectable chest bare.
Gripping the towel around her body with one hand, she patted her damp hair. “What’s wrong? Did I miss some paint?”
“No.” He strode forward. Nothing but mere inches separated their bodies. The heat in his eyes consumed her. Passion, desire, whatever synonym she could think of, flared to life.
She wanted to be with him.
Opening the door fully, she stepped across the threshold and fully into his bedroom. Her fingers curled into the soft cotton and slowly undid the knot she’d tied across her breasts.
Adam grew quiet, his gaze locked on her chest. She opened the towel, baring her body. Without missing a beat, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. The towel dropped to the ground as she clung to his shoulders.
The kiss was hot and openmouthed, everything she’d dreamed it could be.
Nothing mattered but skin and sensation as she glided closer. Broad shoulders, firm biceps, tight pecs. She explored his body with the palms of her hands, memorizing every part of his upper body.
Adam did the same as he traced his hands over her breasts and waist. Then he slipped his fingers lower, seeking out the warmth between her legs. She gasped. Her hips moved in tandem with his questing fingers.
She slid her hand down and palmed the heavy weight of his cock through the nylon he wore. She curled her fingers around his length and slowly stroked up and down. Adam dropped his head onto her shoulder and groaned. A second later, she felt the tiny prick of his fangs on her neck. Her knees went weak.
Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to the massive bed and placed her upon it. She sank into the feather-soft mattress. Sweetly scented sheets and the intoxicating feel of him covering her body made her mind spin wildly out of control. What was she doing? Was she really about to have sex with Adam?
Oh, fuck yes. Nothing short of an atomic bomb could make her leave his bed now.
“I’ve dreamed of this. Dreamed of you,” Adam whispered as he cupped her breasts. He lowered his head, his tongue flicking out to lave one nipple. His fangs scratched the tender surface, but not enough to draw blood.
Would he drink from her? The thought intrigued her more than it scared her. She’d overheard her grandmother say that giving her blood to her vampire was better than any orgasm she’d ever had.
Adam moved lower and traced a path down her belly with his wicked tongue and then further south. She held her breath as he gently parted her pussy lips and rolled his tongue across her clit.
“Holy shit.” Her fists curled into the sheets in an effort to keep from screaming.
He lapped at her sex, his tongue teasing all the sensitive spots around and inside her opening. Moving her hips restlessly, she yearned for more. She was close to coming when he turned his head and sank his sharp fangs into her thigh. He sucked and she felt it all the way to her toes.
“Oh. Ohhh!”
He fingered her clit as he drank from her thigh. The sensation of her blood moving through her veins and the tickle of his fingers sent her over the edge. Crying out, she came hard. Harder than she’d ever dreamed possible.
She was limp and trembling from her climax as he lifted his head. His fangs glinted, a dark look of bloodlust in his eyes. With disheveled hair and flushed cheeks, he was sex personified.
“More,” she whispered. “I want more.”
Adam smiled. The sight of his sharp canines sent a delicious shiver down her body.
In a blur of motion too quick for her eyes to track, he moved off the bed. He came to a stop beside the bed and shoved off his shorts. Adam was larger than any of her previous sexual partners. A thrill of anticipation shot through her.
Climbing back into bed, he covered her body with his. His hard, lean physique fit perfectly against her soft dips and curves. It was as if they’d been made for each other. Perhaps they had been. Who knew what sort of odd magic was at work?
Softly kissing her lips, he nudged her chin up until she met his gaze. The emotion in his blue eyes made her suddenly feel like weeping. “Tell me you won’t regret this.”
It was eerie how well he knew her. With most of her other lovers, she’d known it was a mistake to sleep with them. If he’d asked her the same question thirty minutes ago, her answer would have been different. But now, she knew it was the right thing to do.
“I want to be with you.” Her heart melted as he threaded their fing
ers together. “I won’t regret it.”
He kissed her again. A bit of tongue came into play and soon she was breathless from the dizzying effect. His cock moved against her mound. His naked cock. “Condom,” she gasped out.
“It’s not necessary, but I can wear one if you prefer. I can’t impregnate you or transfer disease.” He planted tiny kisses to the corner of her mouth. “Your call.”
If there was no possibility of harm, she saw no reason to use one. “Forget I asked.”
He repositioned himself between her legs. Easing his steely cock inside her, he urged her to wrap one leg around his waist. She gasped as he slid inside. The width of his cock stretched her wide open. A delicious tingling came from their joining.
At first, he went slowly. It took her some time to adjust to his size. Once she had, the tension left her body and she clung to him. She felt boneless, all her senses engaged by the sensation of him inside her.
“The things I want to do to you,” he whispered into her ear. “You can’t imagine the many ways I want to fuck you.”
She came apart at his naughty words. Crying out, her hips lifted and cradled his cock. His thrusts came harder and faster. The bed frame knocked against the wall as he fucked her. She clung to his shoulders, the thin line between pain and pleasure driving her close to the edge again. Was it possible for her to come a third time?
With a harsh groan, Adam reached his peak. He thrust into her and held still as pulses moved up and down the length of his shaft. The tiny reverberations nearly made her come, but her orgasm remained just out of reach. Her body was too exhausted.
Adam’s gaze flicked to her face. Worry etched across his handsome features. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“Don’t you dare apologize for the best sex of my life.” She cuddled against him as he moved to lie next to her.
“The best?” His eyebrow cocked. “I’ll be sure to top it next time.”
“Can’t wait.” She yawned, suddenly tired despite her desire to remain awake.
Adam tenderly kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Hope and possibility,” she murmured against his hard chest.
“Hmmm?” His arms tightened around her.
“The tarot card. I think I like our fortune.” Closing her eyes, she went to sleep, dreaming of the endless possibilities to be had with one sexy vampire.
About the Author
Christy Gissendaner is a romantic comedy author and believes that laughter and love should go hand in hand. She lives in Alabama with her husband and three sons and is always hard at work on her next novel, but in her spare time she loves blackjack, karaoke, and anything resembling a vacation! Christy also writes historical romance as Robin Danner. Find out more at http://christygissendaner.webs.com.
Other Titles Available by Christy Gissendaner
Now Available:
The Deed
Christmas Spirits
Overnight Sensation
Amuse Me
Amuse Me Again
A Hot Mess
Having Cake
One Hot Knight
Just Right
Out of Bounds series
A Touch of Sin
Some Kind of Trouble
Coming Soon:
Unmasking the Wolf
The Strength of a Lion
Lynn Lorenz
Dedication
To all the ladies of Love, Lust and Laptops. I adore you all and it’s been great getting to know each of you.
The Party
Leon Manx stood in the corner of the large front parlor of the Dacre mansion and watched the Halloween partygoers. In front of him, costumed couples danced to the pounding music, dressed in everything from a nun in a miniskirted habit and black fishnet stockings to a Mexican wrestler, including the skeleton lycra mask.
His own costume, a big-game hunter, was a last minute decision and a bit ironic, like his sense of humor. He’d enjoyed the joke, but now he was here, Leon might have made a deadly mistake coming to the party.
Perhaps for him; and perhaps for whoever thought he or she could fuck with Leon.
He’d received the invite, one half of a Tarot card, three days ago, not in the mail, but in an envelope slipped under the door of his uptown shotgun house. The torn card and a business card with the date, time and address of the party.
Meet your mate had been printed on a small card included in the envelope.
Some would look at it as just an invitation to a Halloween party. Leon took it as a warning, a threat, to his very existence. And he didn’t take threats lightly. He’d never killed before, not even in his line of work, but there was always a first time. And if it came down to exposure or capture, Leon planned on being the last man standing in whatever battle occurred.
He suppressed a shiver as he touched the card nestled in the pocket of his hunter’s jacket. The top half of a woman held a leash leading to the head of a lion.
Never mind that whoever sent the invite knew where he lived, a carefully guarded secret, when he’d googled the card to find out what it meant, it shook him even more, leaving him with more questions than when he’d found the card.
Did someone, somewhere, know who he was? What he was?
The card meant strength. Captured strength.
The thought of being leashed, captured, his freedom gone, raised the hairs on the back of his head, and a slow hiss escaped through his clenched teeth.
He’d kill before he let that happen.
David Reese had no idea what he was doing at this party. Or who had invited him. But he hadn’t anything else to do, it was Halloween, and hitting the gay bars in the French Quarter just didn’t appeal to him. Nothing there but twinks and blowjobs and disappointment.
So he’d thrown together a costume—a lion tamer—and showed up. It was the perfect costume for him—black pants nearly painted on, a white button-down shirt open to his navel, a bright red sash wrapped around his waist, and tall black boots. David had slicked back his red hair and applied a little black eyeliner. To complete the look, he’d coiled his bullwhip around and looped it over his shoulder and wore a holster with a gun that fired caps. He had everything, except for the chair.
He made his way through the crowd to the makeshift bar and got a glass of white wine. He took a sip. Not as bad as he’d thought it would be. Whoever was throwing this bash had spent a decent amount on the food, spirits, and decorations.
The house was a real New Orleans Garden District gem. David admired it as he moved from room to room, checking out the people. He’d slipped into party mode with a smile he hoped wasn’t too fake on his face and his gaze searching for anyone he might know, to give him a clue as to who’d left the invitation under his office door.
A woman dressed as a flapper slinked up to him. “What are you supposed to be?” Her slight slur gave her away as being on the wrong side of tipsy. When she leaned in close and put her hand on his arm, he could smell the liquor on her breath.
Alcohol wasn’t a turn-off, but for David, her being a woman was enough to soften his dick. “I’m a circus lion tamer.”
She stepped back and looked him up and down. “The circus?” She blinked, not understanding, then her eyebrows went up. “Oh, yeah, right. I get it.” She pointed to his face. “Cute.” She giggled.
Cute?
Definitely not cute. Not with the parallel set of three white scars running across his cheek. She probably thought it was part of the costume.
David wished, not for the first or third or thousandth time, the scars were fake too.
The gay men he met? Most of them turned their heads, diverted their gazes, or gave him pitying looks when they thought he couldn’t see them.
He leaned in. “I’m gay.”
She sobered and shrugged. “Sorry.” Off she went, swaying over to another guy.
David took another sip of the wine. A few friends said with his “professor” vibe he came off borin
g and standoffish. Add the scars? Unapproachable. Closed off.
Maybe it was true. His self-confidence about his field and his teaching didn’t extend to his personal life. How could it with his face ruined? Other than going to the bars to find someone who didn’t care what he looked like as long as he paid for drinks, he rarely went out. He’d stopped dating friends of friends who never gave him a second chance. He’d have blown this party off, if not for the Tarot card piquing his interest.
When David was a kid, the lion tamers at the circus mesmerized him, ordering the tigers around the cages and fighting off the lions with nothing but a chair, a whip, and a fake gun. His fascination with big cats fueled his passion to work with them when he grew up. He’d gone to college, gotten his PhD in zoology, and now, at forty, taught freshman zoology at Tulane University and worked part time at the Audubon Zoo with the big cats.
His dreams had come true. He had all he’d ever wanted, except one thing—a guy who’d hang around longer than a night or two. A man who would look him in the eye, not shy away from his face. Someone who saw past the damage on the outside to the man inside.
David moved back into the ballroom where people were dancing. He stood in the large arched opening between rooms and glanced around. Feeling bold, he decided to ask someone to dance, if a slow song came on and his gaydar didn’t fail him.
Taking another sip, he caught the gaze of a man, tucked against the far wall, near one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Large. Wild blond hair, like a mane, haloed his head. Something familiar about him niggled in the back of David’s mind, as if he’d seen or met him before. Maybe this was the guy who’d invited him?
David put his drink down on a nearby tray and made his way around the side of the room, avoiding the dancers in the middle. The man was dressed as a big-game hunter. Okay, that was too much of a coincidence. This had to be the guy who’d sent the Tarot card.
As David approached, the man straightened, and they locked gazes. David’s cock filled, tight and hard in his painted-on pants, and he pulled out the half of the card, ready to show it to the guy.
Love in the Cards Page 8
